


Lvr Boy (Discontinued)

by Metal_Prince



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: 2004, And doesn't actually have blue eyes, Bullying, F slur, GNC Character, GNC Sal Fisher, Gender Non-Conforming Character, Junior year, M/M, Nockfell Wrestling Champion Travis, Sal gets bullied, Songfic, T slur, Transphobia, Trav's dad is in jail (finally), Travis isn't a real blond, discontinued, gay slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 03:25:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17675549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metal_Prince/pseuds/Metal_Prince
Summary: “i used to get on my kneesand I’d pray for loveto come find me somedayfor love to come meet me my wayyour love hit like a brick to the faceand when i put up a fightyou put me back in my place”[2004; Travis locks himself in the boys’ bathroom at school again during Junior year of high school. His dad makes him bleach his hair and wear color contacts to maintain the “perfect teen boy” appearance, and he’s also the champion of Nockfell High’s wrestling team. Sal is gender non-conforming and just wants to help Trav out.]





	Lvr Boy (Discontinued)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys like this. It's my second work in the Sally Face fandom, and my first multi-chapter fic I plan to actually update consistently.

**_Travis_ **

 

_“I used to get on my knees, and I’d pray for love to come find me some day. For love to come meet me my way.”_

 

Travis Phelps kicked open the stall door, cursing inwardly at the loud bang he’d caused but swiftly disregarding it. _No one’s even in the halls at lunch._ He told himself in minor confidence, stepping into the small space to close and lock the flimsy door behind himself.

He hunkered down on the toilet, one palm wiping at his red face. Faux-cobalt eyes stung unpleasantly while a lump as big as a crab apple formed in his throat; making the teen pull his knees to his chest and bury his hands in his hair.

One hand untangles from his hair to shove into his pocket and retrieve a contact case, sniffling as he opens it and removes the dumb blue contacts to reveal hazel irises underneath. _I hate these fucking things._ He narrows his increasingly watery eyes at the white case, closing the lids and shoving it angrily back into his pocket to once again press his tan palms to his face.

 **_Dumb fag. You know you’re going to have to put those back in._ ** His mind scolded him, but he disregarded the words as he bit back tears. **_You know what’ll happen if you don’t fucking put them back in._ **

Just as a choked sob slipped out of him, he heard the bathroom door open and cursed everything he’s ever known. **_You’re gonna get caught, you fucking idiot. Stop sobbing, you weak bitch. You can’t be weak in this shithole. What are people gonna say? ‘Nockfell wrestling champion bawls in the boys' bathroom because he can’t handle his dumb fag thoughts.’_ **

“Hello?” _That voice...that delicate voice..._ **_no. Shut the fuck up. Don’t fucking give into those bullshit thoughts again, shithead._ **Travis swallowed the lump in his throat thickly, forcing himself to stop crying as he heard the pad of worn Converse get closer to his stall.

“Is anyone in here?” The voice called again, and Travis curled in on himself just slightly, one foot pressing up against the stall door in an attempt to ground himself. He took a sharp breath before slamming the heel of his foot into the stall door hard enough to create a loud bang. He felt like it was Sophomore year all over again.

“Fuck off, Sally Face!” Travis shouted through the door, voice hoarse. He could almost hear the small teen jolt in fear from the loud noises, and a pang of guilt hit his heart instantly. **_You dumb bitch. You fucking scared him. Maybe if you scare him off, you’ll stop having these shitty homo feelings for him._ **

He and Sal were _sort of_ friends, but he still couldn’t forgive himself for his feelings even after a year, and all of Sal’s encouragement in trying to forget about his dad-- who had been taken to jail a month before the start of Junior year. No one else knew about that but Sal and his own family.

“...Travis?” _I can hear how scared he is...god fucking dammit._ “Are you okay? What happened this time?”

 **_Yeah, what_ ** **did** **_happen this time, Travis? Got too fucking distracted by that asshole’s graffiti on your little blue jay’s locker? Didn’t realize the jock was coming right fucking up behind you and pinned you for being a fag all because you were wiping “Freddy Kruger’s Tranny Monstrosity of a Twin” off that little blue homo’s locker with your own fuckin’ handkerchief?_ **

“Nothing _fucking_ happened. Leave me alone.” He practically snaps at the boy and immediately regrets it, hearing the little step back that Sal took when he spoke. _Or was it a step forward?_ He couldn’t be bothered to differentiate.

 

_“Your love hit like a brick to the face,”_

 

“Travis...I knew there was graffiti on my locker this morning...and now it’s gone...did you clean it up? If you did, thank you. I didn’t know how I was gonna get it off without having to get the creepy janitor to help.” He gives a small laugh at his quip about the janitor, and just _hearing_ his soft giggle made Travis’s stomach twist in a million knots.

“I..,” he was at a temporary loss, scrambling in his head to look for the right words, “don’t mention it, Fisher...like, _seriously._ Don’t fucking bring it up again or I’ll…” _I’ll what? Hit him? I can’t do that again...I promised the both of us._ Sal was quiet as Travis tried to search for his words.

 

_“And when I put up a fight, you put me back in my place.”_

 

“...never mind. Just...let’s not talk about it…” A shaky breath left him, and he rubbed away at his eyes to try to get the tears off his face. **_Smooth. Almost threatened the little fag again._ ** Travis batted at the air around his head, as if it would make the intrusive voice go away.

“Okay, I can do that..,” there’s a silence between the two, and Sal quietly kicks at the tile with the toe of his shoe, “do you...want to come out of the stall now..? There’s no one else out here.”

The faux-blond thinks for a minute, focusing and unfocusing his eyes on nothing in particular while his thumb rubs over the contact case in his pocket. It didn’t matter if Sal saw his eyes like this...right?

A small click of metal signaled the stall door opening, and Sal stepped back to watch Travis lumber out; the broad-shouldered boy wiping at his face with one hand while the other stayed tucked into his pocket.

 

**_Sal_ **

 

Hazel. Travis Phelps’s eyes were hazel, and they were _stunning_. Had they always been hazel? Sal wasn’t sure, but he loved the color. He hadn’t even noticed his staring until the blond coughed, bringing him back to reality.

He shook his head, his ponytail bobbing with the motion as he begins leading Travis to the sinks. “Here, let’s put some cold water on your face. You’re red as a tomato, and your eyes are swollen.” He states pretty bluntly, tearing some paper towels from the dispenser to dampen with cold water from the shitty sinks.

When he turned, he noticed Travis had been idly watching him work; black-painted nails holding the damp, brown towel that reached up to try to come in contact with the blond’s tan features. Travis had to lean down just for Sal to reach.

Once Sal had properly wiped down Travis’s face, he tossed the used towels into the trash can and turned back to him.

“Feeling any better?”

A weak smile formed on Travis’s lips, and he nodded in a silent confirmation for the blue boy in front of him.

 

**_Travis_ **

 

_He looks cute today. He’s wearing his hair up in a ponytail that has little braids in it, no doubt from Larry and Ash. He’s wearing a cute baby blue cardigan with a white dress shirt underneath it, and black skinny jeans with a white skirt over them. He looks cute, even if a skirt over jeans doesn’t look the greatest. He’s always cute._

No negative, intrusive scoldings followed this train of thought as he examined the details on Sal’s prosthetic and the overall put-togetherness of his ensemble. He looked great, like he usually did. He had tiny hearts and stars drawn inside the pink section of his prosthetic, and it added to his overall aesthetically pleasing appearance.

A thin, pale hand waved in front of his face, and he blinked hard as he was snapped back to the present. “Oh. Uh…’m sorry, what was the question..?” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair to clear his thoughts.

“I asked if you were feeling any better,” he spoke, and Travis opened his mouth only to be quickly cut off, “but you seem... _really_ out of it. Do you want to go to the nurse? The fumes from the paint or whatever you used to clean it might have gotten to you.” His eyes crinkled, but not in a smile. Travis could tell he was furrowing his brows-- or what may be left of them, for that matter-- in concern.

_Concern for me._

 

_“I thought I wasn’t cut out for this race.”_

 

“I’m just fine. Don’t...don’t worry about me, okay?” He musters up the best reassuring smile he can, but regardless it looks forced. And even with Sal’s prosthetic obscuring his face, he could tell what he’d expressed wasn’t believable to the smaller boy.

Sal just nods. Oh, _thank God he didn’t press it._ Travis would have broken down if Sal had kept pushing the situation, and let out a small sigh while he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He opened his mouth to speak, but once again, was interrupted promptly.

 

_“You know how I feel,”_

 

“Travis...In Sophomore year. Do you remember the first time I found you in here?” _Oh._

“Uh...yeah, I do.”

“Before I talked to you, I...there was this crumpled up piece of paper by the trash can,” **_oh god,_ **“and I know I shouldn’t have read it, or even picked it up. But it...said stuff. And I know your handwriting.”

 _Shit. Shit shit_ **_fuck. You’ve been found out, you dumb faggot. You should have fucking burned that letter or thrown it into the courtyard, so at least_ ** **he** **_wouldn’t have found it._ **

“It..,” he swallows thickly, feeling his face heat up, “it was..?”

“Yeah. And it said stuff...about your feelings.”

Travis’s shoulders tensed, and he averted his gaze to the side, trying to avoid eye contact as much as possible. He couldn’t hear that taunting voice for once, it was just his own thoughts. _What do I do? He knows. He definitely knows it’s him._

“I just wanted to tell you that it’s not wrong to be gay, or bi, or whatever. And your dad can’t control you anymore, okay?”

Slowly, he tears his hazel eyes from the wall and looks back at the boy in front of him. “I..,” he blinks, chewing on the inside of his cheek, “okay. Okay.” He nods to cement his reply, carding a hand through his bleach-blond hair. His dark brown roots were beginning to show.

 

**_Sal_ **

 

 _So he’s not naturally blond._ The thought puts a smile on his face; the idea of a brunet, hazel-eyed Travis. He wonders how long it takes for his hair to grow out.

“Okay. Now...we kind of have to go to class. Lunch is almost over, and I doubt you have everything you need for Geometry.”

Travis nods and pulls his contact case from his pocket, opening it and walking to the mirror; but was stopped when the bluenette followed and put a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to keep wearing them, Travis. And I think your eyes will thank you for the break. They’re still super irritated.”

He paused, staring at himself in the mirror. Brown roots and hazel eyes. Sal could only imagine how he felt seeing himself like that for the first time in god knows how long.

After a few moments of silence, the contact case was tucked back into the pocket of his jean shorts and Travis turned to Sal again, sighing softly. “Yeah...you’re right. Let’s just go to the lockers ‘n head to class.”

Sal gives him a smile that wasn’t even visible, though the crinkle of his eyes was enough to prompt Travis to smile back as they ducked out of the bathroom and headed along the line of lockers.

When they arrived at Travis’s locker, the boy opened it up quickly and removed an envelope from within it; swallowing thickly and messing with the edge before turning to Sal and extending the paper to him. “Here. This is uh...this is for you.”

Sal blinked at the envelope, and it took him a moment to process before he reached out and took it. _What’s this?_ “Thanks, Trav.” He decided to just thank him now, and figure out what it was on his own later.

He bid farewell to the faux-blond before heading towards his own locker, staring down at the envelope.

 

_“You don’t need a song, but just in case…”_

 

Sal opened his locker after some trial and error, leaning against the bottom edge while he uses a nail file to open the letter Travis had given him. Once it was open, he pulled out the folded card stock paper inside it. He realized it was an invitation of some sort, and the outside was addressed…

 

_“To my lover boy.”_


End file.
